Many many years ago.
Presents were for a few.
Yet I do recall,
A ragdoll that was made for me.
My granny knew my identity.
It was fun playing with wooden trucks and cars,
even playing in the dirt.
Yet when my granny made me a doll.
It was the best gift of them all.
The doll felt so real to me.
A little friend it came to be.
One who had the same identity.
We wore the same dress.
Our hair was a mess.
We told secrets to,
thank you granny for being you.
xoxoxoxo
About the Creator
Cathy Deslippe
Catherine Deslippe
At the age of 7, I became an author. I am an international writer with many authors; all royalties went to cancer patients without insurance. I used to write to cope, but now I write to bring others hope.
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Inshallah
Istanbul is a city bristling with life, a place where past and present, sacred and profane, intertwine under the watchful gaze of the Sultan Ahmet Mosque. As I explore this crossroads of cultures with Maya, my nine-year-old niece and the daughter of my late brother-in-law Frank, and my wife Nadia, Frank's sister, I find myself on a journey not just through Istanbul's history, but also into the depths of my own beliefs. Staying with Maya and her mother Elvan, my sister-in-law, I begin to see the city anew through their eyes, and to understand why James Baldwin said it "revived" him.
By Geoffrey Philp 2 days ago in Wander
Comments (1)
Awww, so sweet of her to make a ragdoll for you! Loved your poem!